


No who cares, no vacant stares

by onvavoir



Series: From Eden [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Face-Fucking, M/M, Matchmaking, Slurs, Sub Bucky Barnes, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onvavoir/pseuds/onvavoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Sam conspire</p>
            </blockquote>





	No who cares, no vacant stares

When Sam gets home from his meeting with T'Challa's head of security, Bucky's sprawled across the length of the entire sofa. Shirtless. His hair's tied back, his jeans are unbuttoned and sitting low on his hips, and his right arm is pillowed under his head while he watches some Wakandan TV show. It's in Wakandan, so Sam's not sure if Bucky's actually following it or if it's just noise. He tries not to look too long at Bucky's bare torso or the little dip in the small of his back Sam can see when he walks past and definitely does not look at Bucky's ass. Sam would like to know just who the fuck gave Bucky the right to be so effortlessly sexy, because it was very inconsiderate of them. He kicks off his shoes in his bedroom and comes back to the living room.

"Move your feet," he says.

"No. I'm comfy."

"Okay, well, you can either move your feet so I can sit down, or I can go get a glass of water from the kitchen and dump it on you."

A smile curls at the corner of Bucky's mouth.

"Wet t-shirt contest isn't until three."

He's still not looking at Sam.

"Whatever."

Sam picks up Bucky's feet and shoves them aside, sits down on the sofa. Bucky immediately drops them back in Sam's lap. Sam sighs. Bucky's watching him out of the corner of his eye, but whatever it is on his mind, he's not saying anything. Sam tickles the bottom of his foot, and Bucky kicks like a goddamn horse.

"We both know I could destroy you, so let's not, hm?"

He can't tell if Bucky's just being Bucky or if he's genuinely annoyed. Either way, Sam tickles the other foot and nearly gets kicked in the stomach for his trouble.

"Knock it off, asshole."

"What's crawled up your butt and died today?" Sam asks.

"Nothing, you're just being a dick."

"Where's Steve?"

Bucky shrugs. There's definitely something on his mind. Sam considers the possibilities as he lets his eyes rake up and down Bucky's body.

"Okay, well, is somebody gonna tell me why you two are so pissy or do I have to play Sherlock Holmes?"

"I'm not pissy," Bucky says, sounding very pissy indeed.

"Well, Steve is. He's been moody all week. You think he's mad about the other morning?"

Bucky shrugs again, and the urge to shove him off the sofa overtakes the urge to feel him up. Sam sighs. He's not really sure how Steve and Bucky managed not to kill each other back in the day. He pretends to watch the show for a while. He's pretty sure it's some kind of soap opera, which begs the question of why exactly Bucky's watching it. Sam's aware that TV's still kind of a novelty for him, but still.

As if in response to Sam's unspoken criticism, Bucky heaves himself up. Sam watches him over the top of the sofa, frowning, but Bucky just walks into the bathroom. When he comes back out, he doesn't return to the sofa. Instead he goes down the hall to his bedroom and disappears. After a few minutes, Sam gets curious and pretends to need something from his own room. He glances through the doorway and sees Bucky sprawled on his bed, reading a Cormac McCarthy book. No wonder he's in a bad mood.

"Oh, Nakia and Aneka said hi, by the way," Sam says.

They didn't, but Bucky's grouchiness is wearing on him for reasons he can't quite articulate and doesn't really want to think too deeply about. He hears a rustle as Bucky moves around.

"Hey, Sam?"

He reverses course to peek around the doorway to Bucky's room. Bucky's sitting up with his legs folded under him, the book discarded.

"What?"

"Nakia… she's single, isn't she?"

Sam raises an eyebrow.

"You looking to hook up with one of the Dora Milaje? I guess that makes sense for you."

Bucky rolls his eyes.

"I'm not asking for me. I'm asking for _Steve_."

Sam takes a second to consider the hundred or so disasters that scenario could precipitate, then steps into the doorway to lean against it with his arms crossed.

"You wanna set Steve up with Nakia?"

"Why not? They've both got that whole warrior thing going on."

"Is she even interested? Is _he_ even interested?"

Bucky doesn't seem to appreciate the importance of the questions.

"They don't talk much. But I did catch him gazing admiringly at her at one of T'Challa's state dinners."

Sam snorts.

"And what about her?"

"I dunno. Steve's pretty. Worth asking."

Bucky looks at him expectantly.

"Oh I see. I'm supposed to help you with this, is that it?"

"Well, yeah. It's _Steve_."

"Why the sudden interest in setting him up with somebody? Ohhh, is _that_ why he's been so moody? Getting broody? Clock ticking?"

Bucky laughs and flops back on his bed.

"I just think it'd be good for him. C'mon Sam. You know her better than I do."

"Fine. But if this goes bad, it is 100% your fault and you get the blame for it."

"Just get her there. That place with the little lights on the ceiling."

"What am I supposed to tell her? 'Hey Nakia, can you just show up here for no specific reason?'"

Bucky gives him a dark look.

"Tell her a bunch of us are going out. I dunno, it's somebody's birthday. That's what I'll tell Steve. Then they both show up, and it's just them."

Sam squints at him.

"And what if one or both of them walks out?"

"They won't," Bucky says, grinning. "Steve's too polite, and he'd feel too bad to let Nakia leave without showing her a good time."

Sam's still dubious, but he takes his phone from his pocket and sends her a quick text.

"I kinda hope they both come back here and kick your ass."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

He grins, and Sam shakes his head. At least all the conspiring seems to have improved Bucky's mood. He sends a text to Steve and then tosses his phone onto the bed, looking pleased with himself. He looks over at Sam. His eyes rake down and up again, and there's really no mistaking that look.

"Stop undressing me with your eyes," Sam says.

He hates the way that that look makes his pulse quicken now. Suddenly anything Bucky does is a hair trigger for Sam's libido.

"Well then, come over here so I can undress you with my hands."

"Oh, so _that's_ what this is about. Salving your guilty conscience."

Bucky frowns.

"No, it isn't. Steve wants an actual relationship with someone. Nakia's great, she's pretty, she's smart..."

"Whereas you're just a slut," Sam says.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

He grins then, and Sam hates, _hates_ , the way his body responds to it. Like it's hooked something in his belly and Bucky's just reeling him in now. He stands his ground, recrosses his arms.

"What, and you just think I'm gonna be DTF whenever you want now?"

Never mind that he is, Bucky doesn't need to know that. Bucky sighs.

"Fine, I'll just jerk off then. Close the door, will you?"

Sam glares at him. He's tempted to do just that, would serve Bucky right. But Bucky's lying back now, still watching Sam, palming his dick through his jeans. His grey eyes are sleepy-looking, heavy-lidded, and he catches his lower lip between his teeth as his cock hardens. Sam considers the pros and cons of just standing here and watching Bucky get himself off. Then he swears under his breath and makes a beeline for the bed.

The smirk on Bucky's face is in-fucking-tolerable, but Sam feels a little better when he gets his knee in between Bucky's thighs to roughly part them and wipes it off. Bucky's eyes go big, and Sam can practically hear him sink into subspace. He lowers his head to kiss and mouth at Bucky's stomach, seals his mouth and sucks. Bucky arches up into it with a quiet noise. Sam sucks hard, leaves a livid purple mark halfway between navel and hipbone. He traces his tongue along the inguinal ligament, from Bucky's hip to the inside of his thigh, then sucks another deep bruise into the skin there. Bucky sighs, almost a groan. He pillows his metal arm under his head.

Sam looks up at him, jaw flexed. Bucky's eyes have gone hooded again. He watches Sam through the fringe of his eyelashes, bites his lip when Sam gets his teeth around his left pectoral. His fingers dig into Sam's shoulder while Sam leaves another dark mark. He might be trying to pull Sam up, but Sam has a few more bruises to leave.

He sucks another hickey into the skin just outside Bucky's right nipple, then turns his attention to Bucky's collarbone and shoulder. Bucky's writhing underneath him, making quiet little agonised sounds. His hard-on is pressing into Sam's thigh. His hips roll a little to get some friction, and Sam lifts himself up just long enough to evade it.

"Fuck…" Bucky breathes. "This my punishment?"

Sam gets his mouth around another bit of skin and sucks hard again, and is that number eleven or number twelve?

"'S what you get for prancing around shirtless," Sam murmurs. "Slut."

"You like it--"

"See if you walk around with no shirt on now…"

Bucky laughs low in his throat.

"You think I give a fuck?"

Sam takes Bucky's hand off his shoulder and presses it into the mattress while he leaves his next bruise, just behind Bucky's left ear. He'll have to wear his hair down to conceal it-- that is, if he has any interest in that. Knowing Bucky, he'll wear the marks with pride. It's not like they'll last long anyway, not the way Bucky heals, almost as fast as Steve. His body's wound up tight underneath Sam, hard and starting to resist Sam's hold on his wrist. Sam gets his mouth up close to Bucky's ear.

"You think you're so fucking cute," he hisses. "You know what I'm gonna do to you?"

Bucky squirms beneath him but says nothing.

"I think I'm gonna hold you by your hair and fuck your mouth."

Bucky exhales like he's been gut punched. Sam places his hand just under Bucky's jaw, around his throat, pushes until Bucky moves back, up the bed, to sit propped up against the headboard. Sam leaves his hand there for a minute and clocks the way Bucky's body responds. He feels Bucky swallow under his palm. Watching him, Sam moves up until his knees are just under Bucky's arms and his dick is level with Bucky's mouth.

"You ready for this?" he asks, breathless.

Bucky says nothing, but he flicks his tongue at the corner of his mouth. He's looking up at Sam now from under his eyelashes, breathing hard, looking so goddamn pretty it hurts. Sam unzips his jeans and shoves them down just enough to free his dick. He tangles one hand in Bucky's hair, mussing the little bun he had tied in the back, and Bucky's mouth opens automatically, like it's some kind of Pavlovian response. Sam guides his cock into Bucky's mouth and then groans as Bucky's lips close around it and suck, hard. Sam's head tips back, his eyes close, consumed by the slick heat of Bucky's mouth. Then he snaps himself back to reality and thrusts his hips. Bucky makes a sound muted by Sam's cock in his mouth, and his eyes roll back in his head.

"Yeah, you like that?" Sam whispers.

He knows he's not going to last long at this rate, but that's probably just as well for Bucky. He looks up with an expression Sam can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between fury and lust and surrender, his arms at his sides. His chest heaves a little, and his eyelashes flutter as Sam's fingers pull in his hair. His lips tighten around Sam's cock, and Sam moans.

"Goddamn, your mouth…" he murmurs. "Taking it so good… you like that, baby?"

Bucky moans around him, and Sam feels Bucky's arm tighten around his thigh as he reaches for his zipper. He looks up at Sam as if he's not sure if he's allowed, and something pulls hard and low in Sam's belly. Sam lifts his chin a little, yes it's okay, thrusts a little harder into Bucky's mouth, which tightens around his cock and draws a moan out of him. Bucky's eyes close for a second. The tension in his body changes, and he extends his neck a little. Sam can feel the impact and the rhythm when Bucky starts jerking himself off. He moans around Sam's dick.

"Fuck…" Sam whispers. "Fuck, fuck…"

He's so close. He grips the top of the headboard with the hand that isn't pulling Bucky's hair. Bucky's mouth works around his cock, swallows it down, and Sam comes with a gasp down Bucky's throat. Bucky goes on stroking himself while Sam shudders to a halt, bracing himself against the headboard as Bucky swallows again and again around his dick, until it's too much for him to take and he has to back away. He extricates himself and sprawls back to watch Bucky finish himself off. He's gorgeous, marked all over by Sam's mouth, skin gleaming a little, his jeans pushed down just enough to reach his cock. Sam's half-tempted to suck him off, but the sight of Bucky with his hand around his cock is too good to interrupt. He looks wrecked, lips reddened, hair disheveled. He lifts his hips a little. His breathing hitches, and Sam catches his eye as he glances over at him.

"Fuck, you look so fucking hot," Sam murmurs. "C'mon, do it for me."

Bucky gasps, and Sam watches him come with greedy astonishment. Bucky's mouth opens, eyes squeezed shut, and then he shudders, his hand still pumping. He comes all over his hand and stomach in slow, hot spurts and then melts into the bed with an unsteady sigh.

Sam shifts over to lie next to him and resists the intense urge to lick the come off Bucky's stomach. Instead he kisses Bucky's neck and noses at his ear. He rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. His phone vibrates in his pocket, startling him, and Bucky laughs. Sam pulls his jeans up and takes it out to check it. Nakia's texted him back.

"Hey. Can Steve do tomorrow night?"

"Course he can. He's got nothing better to do. What, 8 o' clock?"

Sam yawns.

"Sounds good. And you call at like, 7.45 to tell him we're running late--"

"He's gonna assume we're fucking," Bucky chortles.

"Well, we probably will be."

Bucky eyes him.

"Sure of yourself, aren't you?"

Sam smirks.

"If I told you I'd let you tie me up, would that improve the likelihood?"

Bucky's eyes widen for a second. He smiles.

"And you call _me_ a slut."

Sam shrugs.

"You are."

Bucky lifts his eyebrows as if to say _that's fair_ and texts Steve back.


End file.
